


Friends Don't Let Friends Diss The Chef

by author203



Series: Written By Request [4]
Category: Lupin III
Genre: Body Swap, Freaky Friday - Freeform, Gen, Written by Request, author is in love with a figment of someone else's imagination, don't count them lol, don't think about it so hard, had way too much fun with this one, how many times did i use the word voice, jigen heavy but everyone else is there too, jigen is my favorite, just try to have fun with it, pops is my second favorite, red jacket for sure, seek not plot holes if plot holes you wish not to find, too many tags lol
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-01
Updated: 2021-01-01
Packaged: 2021-03-11 00:47:41
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,880
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28486353
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/author203/pseuds/author203
Summary: Lupin is rude and that causes a lot of trouble for everyone else, especially Jigen.
Series: Written By Request [4]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2046656
Comments: 4
Kudos: 24





	Friends Don't Let Friends Diss The Chef

**Author's Note:**

> Credit where it is due: my internet friend gave me the title, premise, and first couple of scenes. This was a lot of fun for me, and I hope you also enjoy it.
> 
> Also, minor note, there was this thing in part 3/pink jacket where when someone who wasn't around called a character's name, that character would sneeze.

**Friends Don't Let Friends Diss The Chef**

Jigen was irritable, starting to cross the border into cranky, mostly because he was starving. He stared morosely at the plate before him, but couldn't stomach another bite. It was horrendous. The chicken was – gritty was the only word he could come up with. Like they had seasoned it with dirt. And the rice. You have to really not know what you're doing to mess up rice. Even Fujiko knew how to cook rice. It was sticky, but not in a good way. Clumped together, somehow overcooked and underdone at the same time. Jigen marveled at the lack of skill required to pull that off. Maybe they had actually let a chicken fry it.

They were at a small Chinese restaurant. A little hole-in-the-wall place they had never been to before – one they would never visit again – that they had only come to on Goemon's recommendation. _Last time I listen to him about eating_ , Jigen thought. Goemon was so scrawny, Jigen mused that if he turned sideways and stuck out his tongue, he'd look like a zipper.

Goemon didn't look much happier with his meal, but he wouldn't say so out loud. He had insisted they come here, had pushed it pretty hard, and now everyone was disappointed and hungry. He was embarrassed, and just ready to go back to the hideout. Maybe there was something left in the fridge there. Anything would be better than what he had ordered.

Fujiko hadn't said much – just that she'd had better on airplanes and in hospitals and even a third world prison once – but Lupin said enough for all of them. Loudly, and Jigen thought, obnoxiously. He complained to the wait staff, insulted the chef, the chef's mother, the chef's ancestors, he went on and on. He was rude and pushy, but he was funny, and Jigen found himself chuckling a little under his breath.

That wasn't good enough for Lupin. He kept at it until they were all laughing, loud enough to draw the attention of the other patrons. Later, a waiter brought a tray of fortune cookies, dropped them unceremoniously on the table and retreated. The chef watched them from the little round window in the kitchen door, but they didn't notice.

“About time,” Jigen said. He was past ready for this meal to be over. He wanted to leave, to go outside and smoke, maybe wander down to the bar a few blocks over he frequented whenever they holed up in this city. Maybe he could find something to eat there. Even stale pretzels sounded more appetizing.

The cookies were packaged; they looked store bought. So Jigen thought maybe they would be edible. They each took one, ate them. Lupin complained, “What kind of fortune cookie doesn't even have a fortune?”

“The paper would have tasted better than anything on this table,” Goemon said, quietly. They were silent for a moment, all sort of stunned that Goemon would say such a thing before they burst out laughing again.

Jigen, chuckling, looked up, caught sight of a familiar silhouette outside the front window. He'd know that hat and coat and the inspector they hung on anywhere.

“Lupin,” the gunman said.

“Not now, Jigen. I've got a good one.”

“Lupin.”

“Just let me –”

“Lupin,” Jigen stood. “You can hang out here and let Pops arrest you, but I'm leaving.”

“What?” the thief said. “Pops? Where?”

Inspector Zenigata opened the door, came inside, spoke to the cashier.

They froze. If they all jumped up and bolted he'd notice them for sure. If they were quiet, and didn't move, maybe, just maybe –

“LUPIN!!”

Nope. He noticed.

The gang took off and split up. Jigen and Lupin went through the kitchen and out the back. Fujiko slipped into the restroom and out a window. Goemon went the opposite direction, toward the inspector, but Pops rushed past the samurai having eyes only for Lupin. Since Pops was otherwise occupied, Goemon was able to calmly approach the register and pay their bill, though he thought maybe he was owed some sort of compensation for having suffered through the ordeal.

Zenigata paused at the littered table, picked up the last cookie, and crunching, hurried through the kitchen.

“Where?”

The chef and the rest of the staff pointed toward the open back door. He knew he was too late. He heard the tires squall as he stepped into the dark alley, knew they were already gone. He didn't have his cruiser. He had walked here. Had only wanted something to eat besides ramen for once, and Lupin had slipped right through his fingers yet again.

Feeling defeated, he went back to what had been Lupin's table, sat down at one of the full plates, tasted what was there. “Oh, it's awful,” he said to himself as he stood back up after only one bite.

Unfortunately, the chef had heard him.

Jigen rolled over and sat up with a groan. His head was throbbing, which was unusual. He hadn't surpassed his limit last night, so he shouldn't be hungover. His mind was still half asleep and felt muddled. He groped around on the nightstand for his hat and gun, but they were gone.

“Huh?” He looked over his shoulder, saw Lupin sprawled shirtless across the other half of the bed. What was he doing in Jigen's room? Jigen liked his space, and he frowned as he watched the thief drool on his pillow.

He shouldn't be here, but Lupin did get a little clingy when he was drunk. And Jigen's head shouldn't hurt, but it did. Maybe they had celebrated their escape from Pops a little too much?

Jigen tried to remember. All he could summon was the horrible taste of that wretched Chinese food.

Well, priorities. Bathroom first. Then to squeeze the location of his hat out of Lupin. The thief would wear it sometimes when they were drinking or hide it because he thought that was funny – to see Jigen angrily ransacking the hideout because he refused to go anywhere without it.

Jigen had found his hat in all manner of unusual places before – in the freezer, tucked in the glove box of the Fiat, in Fujiko's handbag, even perched on a blade of the ceiling fan. He almost never found it then. No one spends a lot of time looking at the ceiling. He didn't feel like playing this game today. He wasn't in the mood at all.

Jigen stood up, ran a tired hand over his face as he stalked toward the bathroom. His chin was smooth.

What the hell had happened last night?

Had he lost a bet?

No. Even when he was falling down drunk he'd never bet his beard, or his hat, or his gun. So where were they?

There had to be some explanation. He moved a little faster to the bathroom, blinked as he turned on the light. He caught sight of his hand; it was small and slender and delicate and hairless. The fingernails were painted. A nice color he thought.

Wait, why would he think that?

He looked in the mirror and Fujiko stared back at him. “Get out of here, I need to –” he stopped. How had she known what he was about to say? “Fujiko?” He heard her name in her voice, which was very unsettling since he was sure he had been the one to speak.

He winked one eye, then the other. Opened and closed his mouth a few times. Raised his right hand, placed it on the counter. Did the same with his left. Stared in the mirror and racked his brain. He wasn't asleep. But he wasn't himself.

What had happened? And how were they going to fix it?

While Jigen studied Fujiko's reflection in the mirror, a few feet away, Inspector Zenigata yawned and stretched and swung his legs over the side of the bed sitting up. He rubbed his face and found his side-burn right where it should be, but something felt off.

His jaw wasn't square. It was pointed almost.

He looked around. This wasn't his apartment.

Someone had slept beside him, the hollow they had left in the bedding was still warm. Who?

His slippers were gone, but maybe he hadn't brought them? Where was he? What had happened? He tried to remember. All he could remember was Lupin slipping through his fingers yet again. And the familiar feeling of dissatisfaction. He wore that almost like a badge now. The Chinese restaurant.

Jigen came out of the bathroom.

“Fujiko!?” the inspector asked wide-eyed.

“Uh, well, I mean technically, I guess,” Jigen started. He wasn't sure how to explain. Didn't know who he was talking to or how much they knew. “Who are you?”

“What do you mean?” Lupin's puzzled face looked back at him.

“Just look in the mirror. Tell me what you see.”

“I don't see how –”

“Just humor me.”

The inspector went to the bathroom as requested, though he thought Fujiko was being foolish.

“LUPIN!” He heard the thief's name in the thief's own voice, cracked his head on the mirror as he tried to apprehend his own reflection.

“Great. Pops is here.”

On the other side of the hideout, Lupin, always a light sleeper, jerked awake at hearing his name. He was sitting cross-legged on the floor leaning against the wall, Goemon's sword propped against his shoulder.

He shouldn't have the sword unless something had happened, and Goemon couldn't be trusted with it. But that didn't explain why he was on the floor. His joints were stiff as he unfolded his legs. How long had he been sitting here this way?

Not only did he have Goemon's sword, he also had the samurai's clothes. That didn't make any sense at all. Why? And how?

Lupin scratched his head, ran a hand through his long black hair. Wait. He didn't have long hair.

Goemon's clothes. Goemon's sword. Goemon's... hair?

The real samurai, a room away, was startled from his meditation at the inspector's shout. The first thing he noticed was he was lying in a bed and not sitting like he had been. The lingering tobacco smell was much stronger than it should have been. This was not his bed. It must be Jigen's. It smelled like Jigen's room anyway. But why was he in it? The gunman was strict about boundaries and Goemon knew he shouldn't be here.

His knee ached. Had he been injured? He tried to remember. The restaurant. And Pops. But they had not fought. There was no reason his knee should feel this way.

He sat up, rubbed his cheek. He had expected to feel only a little stubble, but his hand was greeted with much more than that.

Something was very wrong. Where were the others?

He noticed Jigen's hat and weapon on the nightstand. Where was Zantetsuken? He took the hat and gun to the living room where he saw himself – how could that be? – arguing with Fujiko and Lupin. At least it appeared to be himself and Fujiko and Lupin. They had not noticed him yet.

“I'll have you arrested for this,” Lupin was saying. At least, Goemon thought it was Lupin.

“Sure,” he watched himself answer. “Go right ahead. Turn yourself in. Be sure to explain that you aren't me though. That you're just in my body. That's a guaranteed one-way ticket to the psyche ward.”

Lupin looked unsure. “You're right,” the inspector said as everyone was looking at Lupin. “This is a problem. Where's _my_ body?”

“Who isn't here?” the real Lupin asked. “Who are you?” Jigen caught the samurai looking at him with hungry eyes.

“Who do you think? And don't look at me like that. I'm not her and I won't have it.” She looked up, saw Goemon in the doorway. “What the hell are you doing in my body?” Fujiko snapped. That must not be Fujiko, Goemon decided. “Give me that.” She snatched the hat, jammed it on her head. Took the Magnum, nearly dropped it. It was much heavier than Jigen remembered. He cut quite an image in Fujiko's silk night gown, wearing the fedora, hair cascading from under the brim.

“But how do I know you aren't really my Fujicakes?” Lupin continued.

Jigen pointed his gun, snarled, “Try it and find out.”

Lupin raised Goemon's hands in a gesture of surrender. “Just a joke, Jigen-chan. I know it's you.”

“I awakened like this,” Jigen heard himself say. So weird to have hear your own voice coming from across the room. “Where is Zantetsuken?”

“We all did. Here,” Lupin said, in the samurai's voice, handing over the sword. “So I'm Goemon. Goemon is Jigen. Pops is me. And Jigen is –”

“Freaking Fujiko,” he grumbled.

“That must mean Fujiko is you, Pops,” Lupin explained in Goemon's voice.

“What do we do?” the inspector wanted to know.

“I don't know how, but I know this is your fault, Lupin,” Jigen asserted as he crossed his arms over a chest more ample than what he was used to. “And you had better find a way to fix it.”

“Relax.”

“Relax? Really? You relax! I'm Fujiko. Freaking Fujiko! How can I relax? And just why are you so calm about this?”

“Well, it's happened before. So I guess maybe I'm used to it?”

“This? This has happened before?”

“Yeah, remember a couple of years ago, in Brazil, when that cat followed you around for three days?”

“Vaguely...”

“That was me!”

“What?”

“Yeah. So let's just all calm down a bit,” Lupin said, trying to push Goemon's hair out of his eyes. “You need a haircut samurai.” He had barely finished the sentence before the sword was at his throat.

“You will not alter anything about my appearance,” Goemon said furiously. Jigen's gruff voice added a little more to the statement. Goemon liked that. He sounded powerful.

Lupin was not phased at all though, and calmly pushed the sword away. “Careful, Goemon, you don't want to lose _your_ head. I suggest we wait for Fujiko. She knows where we are; she'll come as soon as she realizes.”

“Yeah. And until then?” Pops wanted to know. It was unnatural hearing Lupin ask what to do next when they were all so used to him spouting orders, telling them the plan, hearing the details in his voice.

“Breakfast?” the thief offered as they all turned toward Goemon.

Jigen nodded. “I could eat.”

“Not too much. Don't want you ruining my Fujicakes's girlish figure.”

“Shut up, idiot.”

“You sound just like her,” Goemon observed.

“You can shut up too. And quit stroking my beard like that.”

They continued to bicker as they all moved to the kitchen, complaining about the situation and how hard it was to move arms and legs that were the wrong length, how every little thing that made each of them who they were suddenly belonged to someone else.

They were very impatient as they waited for Fujiko.

Fujiko Mine was a very late riser. There was absolutely no reason at all to get up with the sun when everything fun in life happened after dark anyway.

She woke later than she would have thought though, as she noticed the time on an unfamiliar bedside alarm clock. Usually the noise from the boys would have roused her long before now.

There should be classical music or a western blaring in the other room. Or Goemon should be muttering something unintelligible as he meditated. Or at the very least, Lupin should be scratching at her door begging attention.

She noticed that the sheets were cheap and rough and not her own. Fujiko was a woman that desired the finer things, and she made Lupin furnish those things for her in their various safe houses and hideaways. Silk sheets, fine wines, you name it. Or she'd name it, and no matter what it was, no matter how expensive or scarce, Lupin would always leap at the chance to provide and the slight opportunity to impress.

When she swung her legs over the side of the bed she slipped her feet into a pair of worn brown slippers, almost, it felt like, out of habit. She blinked a few times, and stretched luxuriously, before standing.

“Lupin,” she purred. But he wasn't there. “What's wrong with my –”

She looked around. Where was she? A tiny apartment. Half-eaten ramen cups crowded the nightstand. A trench coat tossed over a chair. Pictures and newspaper clippings of herself and Lupin and the rest of them covering the entirety of one wall.

Zenigata's place then. Had to be. But why was she here? And where was he? They hadn't been together in a long time, and she didn't think she should have any reason to be here now. She found the bathroom, couldn't believe what she was seeing.

“Lupin! This is all your fault!”

Across town, Goemon's body sneezed. “Oh, she must be awake finally,” Lupin laughed. “She'll be here very soon, I'd guess.”

He was right. Only about twenty minutes later they heard the booming voice of the Interpol agent demanding to be let into their sanctuary. One thing about this mess, they would lose a perfectly good hideout now that Pops had been here.

“Oh, Fujiko-chan. We thought you'd never make it,” Lupin said as he opened the door and gave Zenigata's cheek a quick peck.

“Hey, don't do that,” Jigen's voice filled the space.

“Why not, samurai?”

“You know why, Lupin,” Fujiko's voice lilted. “Goemon doesn't want to see himself make out with Pops. Hell, I don't want to see that either. We're all here now, so fix whatever this is. Immediately.”

“And how am I supposed to do that? We don't even know how this happened.”

“Did you steal something cursed or forbidden?” Zenigata asked. So odd to have that question come from Lupin's mouth. Shouldn't Lupin know what Lupin had stolen?

“Not recently. And why would you be caught up in it? You weren't involved. You're never around. Can't even keep up with us, Old Man.”

Lupin's face pinched as the inspector took the jab to heart.

“There must be some common denominator,” Fujiko thought out loud sounding very much like the inspector she now resembled. “Jigen take that hat off. You're messing up my hair.”

“I don't care what body I'm in, there will be a hat on its head,” he answered stubbornly.

“All right, all right, everyone just settle down,” Lupin instructed. “Best thing to do is retrace our steps. Now, who remembers what?”

“All I remember,” this from Jigen, but softened by Fujiko's feminine vocal cords, “is Goemon insisting we go to that place and then waking up like this.”

“Right. We were all there, having a grand time when Pops busted in and ruined everything,” Lupin agreed.

“Something we ate?” Goemon suggested.

“We all ordered something different. And Pops didn't eat with us.”

Lupin's face looked sheepish and they all turned to stare at him. “Did you eat something, Pops?” Fujiko inquired. The inspector could not begin to explain how strange it was to be interrogated by himself.

“A fortune cookie,” he admitted.

“Anything else?” Lupin wanted to know.

“No. It was awful. I only managed one bite.”

“Did you say that?” Goemon asked. “That is was awful. Do you think anyone heard you?”

They all watched the heat fill Lupin's face. “I... I might have mentioned it.”

“You did plenty of that Lupin. Enough for all of us. The whole place heard you. This is all your fault. Some ancient Chinese curse because you couldn't have manners.” Jigen was irate. Normally, he would have wanted a smoke by now, but oddly the body he inhabited was not dependent on nicotine. He still wanted something to do with his hands though, and for lack of better options, started cleaning his Magnum. Curious watching Fujiko's dainty fingers do such a thing.

“So something about the restaurant then. Well, let's start there I guess,” Lupin told his crew.

“Hold it!” Fujiko demanded. “You aren't taking my body anywhere looking like that.”

She made them all clean themselves up, get dressed properly, before she would let them out of the hideout. Jigen tied his own tie, since Goemon didn't know how, which always still sort of surprised him since Goemon's usual traditional clothing was full of complicated knots. Lupin went through his closet and with a wink and a nod handed himself a red jacket. Jigen grumbled the whole time, especially when Fujiko fussed over his hair and make up. But she was insistent.

“I have an image,” she explained. It was humorous to hear it coming from the ICPO agent, who was probably one of the least vain people any of them knew. “And as long as you look like me, you're going to have to dress like me.”

“We need to see the chef,” Goemon's quiet voice said to the cashier.

“He will not see you.”

“It's important,” Fujiko said.

Jigen elbowed Fujiko, which to outside observers looked like Fujiko elbowing the inspector. “Flash your badge.”

“I don't –”

“Left breast inside pocket,” Lupin's voice whispered.

Fujiko cleared the inspector's throat, pulled out his id and badge and demanded in no uncertain terms that the five of them be allowed to see the chef. “Either he comes out to speak with us or we are going back there to see him.”

“You cannot –”

The kitchen door swung open as the chef emerged. “I will speak with them.”

The place was not crowded – big surprise there, Jigen thought – and they were led to a large table near the back.

Earlier, everyone agreed that Lupin should do most of the talking. Which meant of course that Goemon would be doing most of the talking.

“You know why we're here?”

“Of course. Do you know why you're here?”

“Change us back.”

“Why?”

“Why not? What do you have to gain from this?”

“Just a bit of retribution.”

“How long do we have to stay like this? What do you want from us?”

“An apology,” the chef demanded.

“Is that all?” Jigen laughed. “Lupin, apologize.”

“No.”

“What? Why not?” the gunman spat. This was the worst – well, maybe not _the_ worst but definitely by far the most inconvenient – situation they had ever found themselves in. And it sounded like two words would solve it easily. So why the hell not?

“Why not Lupin?” Zenigata asked.

“Just apologize,” Jigen heard himself say, still not used to hearing his own voice come from across the table instead of his own mouth. He really didn't like Fujiko's grating voice. Of all of them, why did he have to be her? What kind of joke was that?

Lupin brushed Goemon's hair out of his eyes. “Because. I'm not going to lie. Everything I said about this place and the food and your culinary skills is absolutely true,” he said, staring at the chef, challenging him to argue.

“Lupin, you're a criminal. What do you care? If all he wants is an apology, just give it to him. I don't want to be in your body any longer.”

“Pops, I have a code. It may not make sense to you –”

“It doesn't.”

“Or to me,” Jigen said.

“Me either,” Goemon and Fujiko added in unison.

“But – as I was saying – it won't allow me to –”

“That's bull!” Jigen stood up, enraged, pointed a finger in Goemon's face. It wasn't quite as impressive as it would have been if the gunman had been himself, but if he was they wouldn't be having this argument. “You're a professional liar. A master of disguise. You lie all the time. To everyone. About everything. Why can't you do it now?”

“Even if he did,” the chef said calmly, still seated, “it wouldn't matter. An apology must be sincere.”

“Well, that's not going to happen anyway. Sit down Jigen. There must be something else we can do. Something you want?”

The chef considered, stroked his chin, pondering. “Yes. There is one thing. Bring me the jade dragon.”

“The what?”

“You will find it in the art museum. It is on loan for a short time.”

“Why do you want that?” Lupin was already doing calculations. He knew the museum's layout. They had lifted priceless works from that particular venue before.

“It is a family piece. Stolen many generations ago. I desire to have it back, that's all.”

“Lupin,” Zenigata broke in, “I can't just let you rob the place.” The world's greatest thief saying he wouldn't allow something to be stolen. It was laughable.

“That's fine Pops. We can just stay like this and Fujiko can be you forever.”

They all started talking over each other, loudly protesting, persuading, pleading. None of them wanted this. And none of them wanted this any longer than absolutely necessary. The sooner they pulled off the heist, the better. With or without Zenigata's help.

The chef raised his hand for silence. It took a few moments, but he eventually got it.

“I give you three days. And no more. Bring me the jade dragon or remain this way for the rest of your lives.”

“Lupin I am NOT going to be freaking Fujiko forever. So either apologize or get stealing. You had better fix this. And soon.”

“Relax. Relax everyone. We can liberate that thing. It's not like we haven't done this a million times before. We'll be back to normal by this time tomorrow,” Lupin assured them.

“Well, that was a disaster,” the inspector said as he collapsed on the shaggy sofa of the hideout.

Jigen followed, and jerked a thumb, waited for Lupin's body to move so he could take his usual spot on the end. He liked to be close to the armrest, and the ash tray he kept on the little side table. Not that he needed it now, but Jigen was a creature of habit. He unfolded a newspaper and winced a little at the pain in his wrist. Fujiko's feeble arms hadn't been able to handle the recoil, and he had missed what should have been perfectly aimed bullseyes. A marksman of his caliber. It was galling. He muttered a bit as he turned the page, “We wouldn't be in this mess if Lupin could keep his mouth shut.”

“Goemon's the one who wanted to eat there!” Goemon's voice swelled.

“We're just lucky we got back here. I mean, they wouldn't have arrested me, but I don't want to have to bust you boys out of jail on top of stealing the jade dragon.”

“Pops,” Lupin asked, “Where'd you learn to drive?”

“What do you mean? I couldn't do anything about a train coming. And on those curves, you have to go the speed limit.”

“In a high speed chase?” Jigen's gruff voice sounded characteristically sarcastic even though the words were Goemon's.

“Well, what about you? That was some fall. Spectacular face-plant there. Not sure how exactly that was supposed to help us,” Zenigata said, a little defensive.

Jigen's cheeks burned red, and Goemon wished he had a hat brim to tug down and hide his face. But Fujiko's body still wore that accessory. “Jigen is not very flexible. And your knee. How do you live with it?”

“You get used to it. And sorry I'm not one for back flips and gymnastics and that 'Crouching Tiger, Hidden Dragon' mess. Maybe just try to keep me in one piece if you can help it.” Goemon had managed to cut himself with his own sword. He was greatly embarrassed. “Sit down. Drink this. It'll take the edge off.”

Pops was right – this was a disaster. And they were running out of time. But Lupin saw that everyone was spent, and after eating together – take out, but from a place they could actually eat from – he insisted they all get a little rest before trying again.

“Going to bed, boss?”

“Don't say things like that. Not in her voice.”

“I heard that,” Fujiko called from the kitchen, where she and Pops were playing a last round of cards.

“Idiot,” Jigen muttered.

“That sounds right. And to answer the question, no. Planning. Thinking.” Lupin couldn't sleep. Not now. Not with everyone counting on him.

“Don't stay up too long. Won't be any easier tomorrow.”

Several hours later, Lupin roused everyone, had them gather in the living room. He had not rested at all yet, but that was ok. He'd crash when this was over. He could keep going until then, he told himself.

“So, what happened last time?”

They all started talking over each other, placing blame, pointing fingers, passing accusations.

“Settle down. Settle down. I know what went wrong. And I know how to fix it.”

“How?” Jigen wanted to know. He was getting a little tired of all this. Why Fujiko didn't wear shoes that actually fit was beyond him. And she had so much hair, much more than he was used to. He was thankful for the hat that kept most of it out of his face.

“Before,” Lupin explained, “you were all trying to do what you could do when you were you and not what you can do now that you aren't you.”

They all just stared at him. Fujiko coughed. Goemon blinked.

“Why don't you, uh –” Pops started.

“Run that by us again,” Jigen finished for him.

“It's simple,” Lupin said waving Goemon's arm for emphasis. “We failed because we haven't adjusted to our new limitations. Things are different now, so we have to be different too.”

“Meaning?”

“I don't know how to explain it any plainer. You need to act like the person whose body you're residing in.”

“And how exactly do you want us to –” Fujiko started.

“Easy. Now we've got two days left, but why wait? We're going to take this thing in broad daylight.”

“How?” Jigen put in. “Sounds risky. Maybe we should wait for the place to close?”

“No, Jigen-chan. It will be fine. All we need is a little distraction. That's where you come in.”

“You want me to what?”

“Just flirt with the guard a little, get his attention. That's all.”

“Why can't Fujiko just flash her badge and call him off that way?”

“Because there's more than one. And this will be more fun,” Lupin said lightly.

“I don't want –”

“Oh Jigen,” Zenigata's powerful voice cut into the conversation. “It's so easy. I'll tell you exactly what to say.”

Jigen frowned, but didn't say anything.

“And quit frowning. You'll cause me wrinkles.” Fujiko saw her own eyes rolled at her.

“Pops,” Lupin turned to himself. “I'll need you to open the case.”

“What? Why me?”

“It's got a very sensitive pressure sensor, and Goemon is just a little too heavy handed for it.”

“Just use the sword since you have to act like the body you are or whatever it was you said.”

“And set off the alarm? That's what we're trying to avoid.”

“I can't. I don't know –”

“It's fine,” Lupin gave a dismissive wave. “I'll be right there. I'll tell you exactly what to do.”

“What about me?” the samurai asked, slouching against the wall. Jigen's posture was terrible. And it was hard to get used to.

“You'll keep watch. Just lean against something and try not to look suspicious.”

“Easier said than done.”

“So is everything. All right, so here's my plan...” Lupin went over the details, the timing, what everyone would have to do and how he thought they could manage this time. They were as good as back in their own bodies, he assured them.

“Heard that before,” Jigen said. They all looked skeptical, yet hopeful, and Lupin hoped that this time he was right.

It worked. Somehow, amazingly, they were able to pull it off.

Fujiko had taught Jigen what to say, how to preen. Twirl a bit of hair around a finger, smile but not too much, laugh and touch an arm but don't let your hand linger. Jigen realized he had seen women do those things in his presence. Often. He had thought it was just something they did, but Fujiko assured him, no, he had missed plenty of opportunities. Hmm, well, he'd know better next time, he figured.

Jigen taught Goemon how to be alert and appear nonchalant at the same time. What to look out for. It was something the samurai was already pretty good at. Who stood out from the crowd? That was one to keep an eye on. Who didn't even notice he was there? Probably ok to ignore that one. He explained how to take in the whole place in one glance, access the situation, when to sound the alarm, when to let it play out. Timing was everything, and lookout was one of the most important jobs. Goemon already knew most of this, but he let Jigen talk him through it anyway. Jigen knew Goemon could handle it. “I have every confidence in you.” And, like Lupin said, it was nothing they had not done a million times before.

Fujiko had used her resemblance of authority to call away a few of the guards. A small fire in the restroom had helped them evacuate the building.

Lupin instructed Pops on how to open the case, carefully, so as not to trigger any security measures. That took a while. Longer than they had wanted, but after a few attempts, he got the thing open and deactivated.

Lupin grabbed the prize, a small jade statue, intricately carved, ancient beyond belief and carefully carried it inside Goemon's robes as they made a hasty retreat.

They went straight back to the restaurant, eager to be done with all this nonsense and put it behind them.

“This is not the jade dragon,” the chef informed them.

“Excuse me?” Jigen said.

“The jade dragon is not a dragon made of jade.”

“What do you mean it isn't –” Lupin started, then stopped. They all sat there staring at the chef a little stunned. No one was sure what to do or say.

Goemon crossed Jigen's arms, rested elbows on the table. He looked tired, defeated. They all did. Dejected. Crestfallen. Everything they had just gone through and it didn't even count. None of it mattered. They were back to square one.

Lupin's voice said quietly, “Why don't you start by telling us exactly what it is you want stolen?” The inspector still had qualms about it, but he had already pulled one heist – what was one more? And he couldn't stand being Lupin. He was too small. Too short. Too lanky and scrawny. And no one would ever believe a word of any of it. And he didn't relish the idea of being a fugitive for the rest of his life.

Why the real Lupin hadn't asked before – before they had gone to such trouble – was beyond him. He should know what assuming does.

“The jade dragon I refer to is a signet ring. Made of jade, with the image of a dragon. I can see how you became confused.”

“Confused,” Jigen scoffed. “Right.”

“Did anyone see anything like that?” Lupin asked.

“I did,” Fujiko informed them in her deep borrowed voice. There had been a smaller display, something about an emperor's practical fashion or something like that, she said. There had even been a little placard explaining the ring's purpose in sealing secret messages and such. Whoever had the ring made the rules.

Jigen sighed, shook his head. He'd probably never eat Chinese food again once all this was over, which was really a shame since he was partial to some of it.

“That's all we need to know,” Lupin stood, clapped twice, and said, “All right everyone. Third time is the charm.”

“It had better be,” Jigen mumbled, and everyone agreed with him.

This time they decided to wait for the museum to close though that hardly made a difference. Police and security forces were everywhere. But it had allowed them all to nap a while before starting fresh.

“How are we going to get in there?” Pops asked, concerned.

“Easy,” Lupin answered without hesitation. “Right through the front door.”

“You're insane.”

“No more than usual. Pops _the_ Lupin the Third stole the jade dragon statue in broad daylight. Isn't that your jurisdiction? Just walk in and say you're here to investigate or whatever. Take charge. Say the rest of us are – I don't know – your forensics crew or something. Get us in and we can do what we did before. Should be a lot easier this time, since we've had practice."

“One problem with your plan there, boss,” Jigen said, as he carefully surveyed the museum's entrance with binoculars. They all shivered on a rooftop across the street.

“Oh, yeah? What's that?”

“Pops isn't Pops, remember?”

“Oh, right. Well, it will still work. Fujiko-chan can handle it.”

“Just waltz right in the front door, huh?” Jigen asked.

“Sure. Why not?”

“This should end well.”

“Got a better idea?”

“No. Let's get on with it. I'm tired of you gawking at me.” Lupin turned Goemon's eyes away. He couldn't help it. Whenever Fujiko was in his line of sight, his eyes stayed glued on her. Even though he had seen her a thousand times before. Even though he knew it wasn't her, she was still something to see.

“And we'll return the real jade dragon while we're in there, right?” Pops was pretty insistent about not keeping it since it didn't belong to them and wouldn't help change them back. Lupin sort of wanted it as a souvenir of this adventure. They'd put it back now, and pick it up again before they left town. Pops didn't need to know that.

“Sure, sure. You and Goemon take care of that. Just do it exactly like I showed you before. Fujiko can clear the room. And Jigen and I will lift the ring. Easy. We could do this in our sleep.”

“Seems a bit too easy, don't you think?” Goemon said, sounding just like Jigen, skepticism and all.

“You worry too much, samurai. It'll be fine; just everyone stick to the plan.”

Fujiko was born to play her role – she was great at barking orders, demanding obedience, disparaging the competency of the local officers. She said things about Lupin's cunning strategy and how this investigation was not for amateurs. Goemon's cheeks blushed a little at the praise, while Pops elbowed himself and hissed not to lay it on too thick.

Someone had tried to stop Jigen, since they hadn't been able to find a uniform to fit Fujiko, but he had batted her eyelashes a few times, purred some nonsense about men in uniform, and slipped by with the rest of them. He hated it and felt ridiculous, but it worked.

Goemon and Pops found the jade dragon case open and empty, just as they had left it – a stroke of luck – until they realized, they would have to do everything Lupin had told them in reverse.

“Do you remember the steps?” Pops whispered.

“Hope so. First –”

“Why can't we just leave it here?”

“You're the one that wanted to put it back. If we're going to do it at all, let's do it right. Also, it's ancient and you want to leave it in the middle of the floor for someone to trip over?”

“Fine.”

“So first –”

“Don't you mean last? Since we have to do it backwards?”

Goemon's groan sounded so much like Jigen's, Pops almost forgot who he was talking to for a moment.

Meanwhile, Jigen and Lupin were across the room, scanning the display cases, looking for the ring. There were plenty to choose from, and they were running out of time. Every other piece had some form of carved dragon and several, more than half really, were made of jade. Lupin didn't want to risk taking the wrong one, and in a split second he made a decision.

“We'll take them all.”

“What?”

“Yeah. Hurry.”

They did hurry, Jigen filling Fujiko's handbag, Lupin rushing him.

“What do you think you're doing?” an officer asked them. One of the ones Fujiko hadn't been able to distract and dismiss. They couldn't really explain. It was exactly what it looked like.

Jigen tried anyway, laid a hand on the man's chest, said, “Evidence. Have to take it back to the lab.” The whole situation was absurd and he was not happy about it, but he tried to play his part. He tried to think of it as an undercover assignment. That's all it was – he was just wearing a disguise that made him look like Fujiko.

It didn't work though. “You're taking things from a case the criminals left untouched? In a purse? Don't think that's standard procedure.”

Lupin pushed the officer out of the way, shouted for everyone to scatter, pulled some smoke bombs from Goemon's sleeves.

They did, all except Fujiko, who had to keep up appearances, and give chase. She was a little too good at it, and caught Jigen when he stumbled in her heels, scuffing her favorites.

He had tossed the purse to Pops who caught it and kept running. It was understood where they would meet. Back at the restaurant where it had all started.

As Fujiko slapped the cuffs on her own wrists – not too tight, it was all for show – she hissed in Jigen's ear, “You'll owe me a new pair.”

“Easy,” Jigen said, as she jerked his arm a little for emphasis. “Take it easy.”

“What's that?” another officer asked.

“Just reading his rights.”

“His?”

She furrowed her brow and bellowed, “What are you even doing here? Standing there like a statue! I know this is an art museum, but come on man, you aren't that much to look at. They're getting away! Here you have a chance to apprehend _The_ Lupin the Third and you're just standing there asking stupid questions. If I know him, and I do, he'll head for the docks.” Of course, Fujiko knew they wouldn't have gone that way, but it sounded convincing.

The officer, a little surprised at being so violently berated over such a simple question saluted and hurried to join the chase.

“He's gone. Uncuff me.”

“Not yet.”

“Why not?”

“Going to use you to get us a ride.” Outside they found a few stragglers, leaning against police cruisers, squawking into radios about perimeter and such.

Fujiko easily commandeered a vehicle, pushed Jigen's head down a little too forcefully - “Watch the hat!” – as she tucked him into the back seat, slammed the door.

They were a few blocks away when they started laughing.

“Reading _his_ rights?” Jigen didn't care for Fujiko's laugh, thought it was grating, but it bubbled out of him anyway. And what should have been a chuckle came out as a giggle.

“What was I supposed to say?”

“Quick thinking with that 'be a part of the capture of the infamous Lupin and make history' nonsense.”

“Wasn't sure it would work, but Pops's voice is pretty powerful, and most people are dumbfounded when you start yelling at them for no reason.”

“Glad it did. Now uncuff me.”

“How am I suppose to do that with you back there and me driving? And besides, you still owe me a new pair of shoes.”

“You serious?”

“Say it, Jigen. Say you'll buy me a new pair.”

“Why'd I have to get stuck as you?”

“Is this it?” Lupin said, starting to sound a bit exasperated.

“No.”

Lupin sighed, tossed the ring onto the growing pile in the center of the table. He didn't care that it was archaic and fragile and priceless. He held out his hand and waited for Pops to place another artifact in it so he could hand it to the chef.

The rest of them sat silent and still, exhausted, and starting to think they might be this way forever. Jigen did not want that. For a number of reasons. He especially did not want that. He frowned and tugged his hat brim a little lower.

“That is not the jade dragon either.”

“That's fine. It's fine. We have more.”

“Uh, Lupin," Lupin's own voice called his name. “We don't.”

“What? We have to.”

“That's all.”

“Give me that,” Lupin snatched the purse, dumping the contents on the table, sifting through them. “That can't be all there is.” He tossed the purse aside, and Jigen caught it.

“If you will not return the jade dragon to me, I will not reverse the curse.”

“We have it. We have it. It has to be here,” Lupin said, starting to sound a little desperate.

Jigen, frustrated, hurled the empty purse away from him, and Goemon feeling thwarted sliced it in half. It felt good to use the sword again, even if Jigen's hands weren't used to holding it.

Another ring fell out and landed on the table between the two pieces.

“Goemon, you owe me a new pocketbook. And Jigen you owe me a new pair of shoes. And Lupin, you owe me a new dress for all this trouble. Nothing cheap off the rack, something designer with a nice label. And Pops you can owe me a new necklace.”

“Me? What for?”

“Because I took very good care of your body during this whole mess and none of you could have pulled this off without me. That's my purse you carried your loot in. Things get stuck in the liner all the time.”

“You might have mentioned that,” Lupin said, picking up the ring, handing it to the chef.

“Excellent. Yes. This is it.”

“So change us back.”

“I cannot.”

“What?” everyone almost shouted at the same time.

The chef clapped his hands and waiters brought forth several steaming platters of food, laid them on the table. “I can't –” Lupin started to say.

“You'll eat it and like it,” Jigen growled. “If I have to hold a gun on you, you'll clean your plate and not say one blessed word about it.”

Everyone murmured agreement.

They ate and surprisingly it was good. Very good. Excellent. Some of the best Chinese food they had had in years. There was no way the same chef had made this. There was no way his skills could have improved that much in so short a time.

Lupin smirked a little as he finished his entree. “You planned all this.” It was not a question.

The chef nodded.

“Why not just ask?”

“You would not have been for hire. And even if you were, I could not afford you. This was much easier.”

“Easier. Right,” Goemon said. Jigen's knee ached all the time, and he was more than ready to get back into his own body.

“But how did you know I wouldn't apologize?” Lupin asked.

“You are far too arrogant.”

Jigen laughed. “He's got you there.”

“Here,” the chef said, smiling as he brought a platter of fortune cookies. “These will change you back, but not until you wake.”

They each took a cookie, ate it, sighed with relief.

Lupin's cookie was the only one with a fortune enclosed. All it said was:

_Rudeness has many unintended consequences;_

_Choose kind words carefully._

Lupin, and everyone else for that matter, decided that was solid advice.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading. Comments welcome.


End file.
